Sunday, June 22, 2014

Here's a story about Udil Bronzebolt, a dwarf. I refuse to explain who he is or how he's relevant to anything here.

Unending Despair

By Tyler Baray

Green and purple lights danced across the bubbling alien landscape. Giant mushrooms grew like trees in the swampy murk. In the distance came the sound of weeping children as glowing spores floated through the fetid air. Elven blood oozed out of every crevice and dribbled down the trunks of the mushrooms. The air stank of stale sweat and passion fruit.

Udil Bronzebolt sat at the bank of a pond of gurgling blood. He quietly rocked from side to side as his twitching eyes darted all around the unfamiliar surroundings. He swatted at invisible insects, muttering lowly to himself as he watched the thick, curdling blood lap at the shoreline.

"You're talking to yourself again." A raspy voice said from his backpack.

Udil reached in and felt around. His hand brushed against a slimy pair of dirty socks and what felt like a fresh liver. Eventually he found what he was looking for and pulled out a human skull by the eye sockets.

"We've got ta git outta 'ere." He said as he clutched the skull close to him.

"Oh of course. That's what you said when you saw that gelatinous blob or when you got us stuck in that tar. Oh! Or the time you almost decided to feed yourself to that big gurgling thing with no skin." The skull said. "And yet you never actually manage to do what you say you'll do."

"I told ye, I jus' keep walkin'...always in one direction. But we're going in circles. These trees are playin' tricks on us...I think-"

"Shut up."

Udil unceremoniously stuffed the skull back in the sack and got up to stretch his stubby arms. From all sides came the sound of hissing swamp gas as rotting vegetation forced its way up to the surface. There was no road to guide him, no signs of civilization at all. There was only the inescapable stench of blood and the anguished cries in the distance. He took one final look around and met the gaze of a large spider-like creature with his own face. It opened it's mouth in a wide, toothy grin and flicked it's tongue at him, which ended in another, smaller head like a hairless rabbit's. It hefted it's bloated body up a mushroom and stared at him. Slowly backing away, Udil decided it was time to leave.

Mile after mile he slogged through the mud and slime. Glowing eyes watched him from the fog. As time went by and his legs started to ache he could swear he heard the screams of his old companions. Visions of the tower flitted through his mind.

There was a bright flash as the air erupted in a thunder clap. Udil fell face first in the mud as hundreds of disembodied baby hands suddenly fell from the sky.They grasped at his beard as he struggled to get back up. Horrified, he tried to scramble away. A hand fell down the collar of his tattered shirt and he started to lose it. Udil writhed and flailed his arms as he started to panic. Hundreds of baby hands silently crawled toward him, grasping at his face and trying to force his eyes open. He cried out for help as he rolled around in the mud. But the only answers were the tormented howls in the wind.